


soft as morning dew

by fishyspots



Series: prompts [6]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Coffee, David's Rings, Established Relationship, Holding Hands, M/M, Patrick's Music Taste, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishyspots/pseuds/fishyspots
Summary: “What I don’t understand,” David said between bites of his croissant, “is why both of us needed to go on this trip. There are only, what, two boxes of kitchen utensils in this order?”“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to do more of the lifting?” Patrick asked innocently. “I can wait in the car when we get there, if that’s the case.”David picked up Patrick’s phone, which was plugged into the car’s speakers, and pointedly turned on the music.Or, David and Patrick find time for a vendor pickup before Cabaret.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: prompts [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822303
Comments: 16
Kudos: 179





	soft as morning dew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brighterthansunshine91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighterthansunshine91/gifts).



> another soft prompt finding its way here! @brighterthansunshine91 requested "road trip." 
> 
> title is from "it's always been you" by ray lamontagne, which is not the song name-dropped in this fic. but it is vaguely alluded to, and that's going to have to be good enough.

“That’s going to be a challenge to eat one-handed.”

“You know me,” Patrick said, eyes focused ahead as he pulled up to the first drive-through window and rolled down the window. “Always up for a challenge.”

David made a frustrated noise. “Patrick.”

“David.”

Patrick turned his attention to the window, paying for their food and handing David his coffee in short order.

“All I’m saying,” David said, after he’d taken a long sip of his drink, “is that I’m happy to take over driving for a little while if you’d like to eat.”

“I can eat while I drive.”

“It’s a breakfast sandwich,” David said, as though ‘breakfast sandwich’ was a dirty word.

“Handheld food at its finest.”

“You’re going to get the car all messy.”

“At least we’ll be on time for the pickup at Sheila’s.”

“We are going to be early, and you know it.” David huffed. “You got me out of bed thirty minutes earlier than the time we agreed on.”

“And we still barely got out of town on time.”

“You have a lead foot, though,” David said. “Also, we’re getting off track. Pull into that spot for five minutes? Eat your sandwich and then we can keep going.”

Patrick accepted the bag of food at the second window, then did as David said. He’d normally put up more of a fight, but he was feeling magnanimous. This was the most time he’d gotten with David for a while. While they were both awake, at least. Cabaret rehearsals always ran late, and David was pulling more of Patrick’s weight at the store than Patrick really felt comfortable with. Not that David had been complaining. He’d been almost annoyingly supportive.

Still, Patrick missed his boyfriend. Wasn’t too much time together supposed to be part and parcel of working with David? Patrick shouldn’t miss David so much when he saw him every day.

“What I don’t understand,” David said between bites of his croissant, “is why both of us needed to go on this trip. There are only, what, two boxes of kitchen utensils in this order?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to do more of the lifting?” Patrick asked innocently. “I can wait in the car when we get there, if that’s the case.”

David picked up Patrick’s phone, which was plugged into the car’s speakers, and pointedly turned on the music.

Patrick ate his sandwich as the music washed over him. He watched colors play across the sky through the windshield. It was still pretty early.

Once he’d neatly folded the paper and his napkin and put them back in the bag, Patrick held out his hand.

David offered his own hand, and Patrick’s heart did something he wasn’t too proud to call a swoop.

“I was actually looking for the phone, David.”

“You have two hands.” But David handed over Patrick’s phone.

Patrick pressed David’s hand, still clasped firmly in his own, to his lips. “That I do.”

After Patrick had navigated to his road trip playlist and pressed play, he handed the phone back to David. He didn’t relinquish David’s hand, though. That, he held onto.

Patrick put the car back into drive and got back on the road. They had maybe an hour to go.

It was quiet in the car for a while, save for the Joni Mitchell coming through the speakers.

Then, in the middle of _Free Man in Paris_ , David did that truly unforgivable thing he did sometimes where he changed the song in the middle of a chorus.

“Can we not have this argument again?” Patrick asked, as pleasantly as he could manage.

David grimaced. “It’s just that this playlist is going to put me to sleep.”

“I like this playlist,” Patrick said, thinking of how Joni Mitchell sang him to Schitt’s Creek a few years earlier.

“I like it too.” David’s thumb ran along the groove between Patrick’s thumb and forefinger where their hands were still twined together on the center console. “I’m just tired. And I feel like all I do around you recently is sleep.”

“What if I promise to wake you up fifteen minutes before we get there?” Patrick bargained. “And then we can stop on the way back. Get out of the car and sit in an actual building for lunch.”

David hummed and leaned his head back. “Fine. Better be a really good building.”

Patrick laughed. “I’ll do all I can.”

David’s eyes closed. By the time Nico’s voice replaced Ray LaMontagne’s on Patrick’s phone, David was breathing heavily through his mouth, doing something Patrick was not allowed to call snoring. He shifted, moving to rest his head on his right hand against the window. Patrick still held David’s left hand, though.

Patrick tore his eyes from the road to sneak glances at David every so often for the next half hour. He watched the morning sunshine catch against the silver rings on David’s hand. He looked at David’s left hand, which had gone slack in Patrick’s grip, and thought about the box hidden at the bottom of his laundry hamper. He wondered if David would ever wear the silver rings once Patrick asked him the question that threatened to spill out every time David smiled at him, or laughed, or listened to him talk about choreography, or breathed, or reached out for him in his sleep.

The rings would be fine either way, Patrick thought. David had two hands.


End file.
